Nuances Du Rouge
by lisek16
Summary: Sydney goes on a mission to Paris and discovers things aren't always what they seem. Chapters 6,7,8 added
1. 1

Title: Nuances Du Rouge (Shades of Red)   
Author: Lisek16   
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, but somehow I find it hard to believe you actually thought that I did.  
Feedback: R/R or email Lisek16@yahoo.com  
Author's note: I'm sorry if the French translations were marred or incorrect…I know online translators are not perfect but they are better than nothing.  
  
  
French patols pumped and pulsated through the stone walls of the Parisian club. Well dressed French whores and businessman alike jived to the French rap, and drank expensive wine. "Swank" was how Marshall had described it; I chose to think of it as a bad dream. Smoke from cigars and stylish cigarettes invaded my senses and I found it difficult not to display a disgusted glance at the scene around me.  
  
I walked to the bar trying to forget that the dress I was sporting was about 2 sizes too small. Short, red, and cut about 5 inches too high…was not my idea of an appropriate outfit. Perhaps it was Sloane's intention for me to come across as a whore.   
  
I slid onto the suede stool and tried to grab the bartender's attention. It wasn't difficult because he couldn't help but look down my dress and ogle me before he allowed me to order. I ordered a Martini. He offered it on the house, claiming he'd 'never let a beautiful woman worry about money'. I declined his 'generous offer' and paid using the francs SD-6 had funded me with. I excused myself from the bar and sat at a small café style table positioned near the dance floor.  
  
A few men walked up to me, they asked me if I'd like to dance and I somehow managed to refuse. I sipped my martini disinterestedly and searched for my contact.   
  
Sloane had called me in early Monday morning to explain my latest mission. I was to visit a Parisian night club and locate 'Brigitte', a French whore with Intel to holdings of Chester Nimitz, a shady art dealer and the latest enemy of SD-6.   
  
A few minutes into my Martini, and my vacant stare, a woman approached me and speaking Rapidly in French asked if I was looking for Brigitte…I nodded and in equally rapid French I managed to explain that I was. She directed me to a woman standing by the stage and I muttered "merci" under my breath as I made my way through the throng of dancing drunks.  
  
"Brigette?" I managed to get out. She sipped some champagne and smiled a coy smile, "not here, outside" she smoothly cooed in a deep French accent which marred English with French. She escorted me outside and I asked "Avez-vous Intel? (Do you have the Intel?)" as soon as she closed the door to the club.  
TBC 


	2. 2

"Je ne sais pas (I don't know)" she responded. She took another sip of her drink and continued. "I had some information, but another agent claimed it already"  
My heart sunk as it suddenly became a realization that while I was fending of drunken French men, a nemesis of mine could have stolen my Intel. "Who?" I asked reverting back to English. Who could have known about this meet? I suppose infiltration of secret meetings was easy enough, but I never expected it could happen to me.  
"He offered me 10,000 dollars American to give him the Intel and pass along a message." She replied.   
So much for my theory that Anna Espinosa was on my trail. A male agent? I was guessing it wasn't Dixon or my father. Most likely some new face looking to make a name for himself.  
"Give me a name" I threatened, as I took a step forward and trapped Brigitte into a corner. Startled she dropped her glass and murmured "Il a certainement su son français... dans plus que l'one-way (He certainly knew his french...in more than one way)" under her breath.  
My mind wandered for a second to Vaughn. But it couldn't be him. He didn't even know about the meet with Brigitte. "What's that supposed to mean?" I retorted. I prayed that if it was indeed Vaughn, she wasn't referring to an intimate relationship…  
She could see her words had crawled under my skin and sweetly stated, "I only meant that he not only master Parisian French, but his Colloquial and slang versions were adequate as well."  
I sighed and relaxed. "Name?" I asked. She squirmed…she dodged my question again, "He thought this would be too dangerous for you, Agent Bristow" she replied.   
"Why?" I responded, she kept avoiding my questions and making me question every truth I thought I knew. "He thought you couldn't handle yourself among the crowd…" she began.   
"I've been around sleazier dumps with skankier whores…" I retorted, Proud of myself for dismissing her attempt to undermine me.  
"I may be a whore, but at least when I go home to my friends and family, I don't lie about what I am." She snapped. She continued "Even if I went and got myself a legitimate job, I'd have to sleep my way up the corporate ladder and I'd be a whore anyways…at least this way I'm not disguising myself as something I'm not…"  
As her words burned and thrived on my insecurities, she pushed through me and attempted to reach the door to re-enter the dank club.   
"By the way, He said to meet him in Room 526 at…" she began, but I interjected, "who?"  
"You know who…" she said "Agent Vaughn"  
TBC 


	3. 3

I stood there for a second. Vaughn really wanted me to avoid situations like these…he tried to rescue me…I needed to find him and if I could get over my pride…I'd thank him.  
  
I thought about trailing the streets. But he had to be staying at the hotel around the corner.  
  
Room 526.  
  
I had to see him; I didn't even bother to change. I just reached the hotel and knocked was about to open the door when I noticed it was slightly open, I turned the knob and pushed it forward and entered. The room was pitch black except for a small lamp set in the corner of the living quarters.  
  
I didn't see him at first so I jokingly asked "Joey's pizza?" As I walked further into the room I noticed someone sitting on the couch, and as I walked even further in I noticed that the man sitting on the couch wasn't Vaughn…  
  
It was Sark. 


	4. 4

"Did you enjoy your conversation with Brigitte?" he asked. Before I had a chance to answer he continued, "Of course you did. After all I was listening…"  
  
I rolled my eyes, but he continued. "Brigitte is a woman of many talents… one of which I will indulge you in… You see she's not only a hot little number, but she's my employer's latest fixation"   
  
"In case you were wondering my employer, has an interest in you too."  
  
"Really?" I asked. "You see I have an interest in vomiting on your shoe, but you don't see me acting on it…" I replied smugly.  
  
"That might have something to do with the fact that the martini you consumed was laced with a new little something special… And nausea will be the least of your worries once the entirety of the effects sets in… You see I have the antidote, you don't. I have your Intel, and you don't. It seems you might want to hear what I'm about to say"  
  
I gulped. Today was not my day. "Where's Vaughn?" I hoarsely asked.  
  
"Oh yes, Officer Michael Vaughn could be safe in California, but if this conversation doesn't go well he might find himself in the closet to your left…bound and gagged… I assumed you'd resist…"  
  
My eyes bulged, my breathing grew more rapid. I never imagined that this would be how it ended. I always pictured SD-6 being taken down first. I guess this was it. Sark had me drugged, he had the one man I trusted locked in his hotel room and he had the power to crumble my world.  
  
"Sydney, Focus" his voice cut through my broken train of thought. "I need to know the pass code to the safe at the Geneva Lab affiliated with SD-6. I also need the ring you acquired last month in Bolivia. You have an hour to decide if you want to help me and my employer or if you'd like to die a painful slow death… The pill I'll hand you in a moment will detain the side effects that you're experiencing for an hour…"  
  
He handed me a small purple pill. "Only a hour though, so if you try to escape you'll be signing your death certificate. As for Mr. Vaughn…You can confer with him…"  
  
He looked at his watch and set an egg timer on the coffee table. "Good luck. I'll trust you'll make the right decision…" 


	5. 5

The door shut.   
  
I wretched in pain…then instinctively gulped down the pill.   
  
I raced to the closet that Sark had pointed out and tried to open the door. Padlocked.  
  
I cursed and removed the lock picking device out of the heel of my shoe and went to work on the lock.   
  
It took me a few minutes to pry the padlock off the door and when I opened the door I found nothing more than a large suitcase and when I cried out "Vaughn?" I heard a mumbled grunt.  
  
Another lock was set on the suitcase and I was faced with a three digit code. I didn't have supplies to quickly open a biometric lock so I set to work the old way:  
  
Picking the keys off and frying the device.  
  
I tore at the cheap but durable fabric and clawed at the zipper. After breaking 6 nails I finally made a dent in my attempt to rescue him. As I unzipped the entire suitcase I found him bound and gagged.  
  
I fought back a wave of tears and grief and went to work on his gag. Finally he was free of that torture and he hoarsely cried "Don't do it" I ignored him at first and continued to free him…  
  
"Don't Do it" he repeated a little louder, and as his left hand slid from the ties and grasped my arm. "I have to" I muttered as my eyes once again filled with tears. I nodded my head in silent agreement and got up out of the closet and sat on the couch. Vaughn slowly followed me.   
  
"We have to get you out of here" I said frantically as I noticed the egg timer displaying only minutes left. "They are out there, Syd. You know that…"   
  
"No." I quickly responded as I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. "We can surprise Sark. You can go back in the closet…you can hide….he won't expect an attack…" it was a feeble attempt at a plan that even I couldn't fathom.  
  
"They are listening…" he responded. "They always are…" I mumbled. A slow rhythmic sound became evident as I slowly realized that it was over. In mere seconds Sark or one of his counterparts would return and most likely torture Vaughn or kill him right on the spot no matter what I said. Sark would proceed to force me to get him information and mostly I would inadvertently reveal my father and myself to SD-6…Francie and Will…their safety would be compromised. My father…my friends…myself…we'd be gone. Maybe Sark would take pity on me and force me to work for him until I was washed up…  
I began to convulse as the seconds dwindled. I could feel the fear boiling in my blood. Vaughn just sat there. I didn't want to know what he was thinking because It would either be sheer anger at my inability to keep those close to me safe, or the worst of the two…he'd be blaming himself…  
  
I heard three poignant beeps and I found my hands digging into the couch as I could almost see the door knob turning. If only there was a way to escape…if not for me for Vaughn…  
  
There were no windows, no alternate doors, no weapons…nothing… I noticed my purse parched on the small coffee table and a small smile came over my face as I grasped it firmly in my hands. "I have a plan" I said as my eyes sparked a fire that I didn't think still existed.  
  
Vaughn looked skeptical. He looked as though I just declared that I was the Queen of Spain and the Goodness of Rain. He shifted uncomfortably and I offered an whispered explanation. "I have a gun… I can't believe I forgot…All along…it was there…" I said as I started to come to the realization that I was going to be fine. Everything was going to work out…  
  
"Is it loaded…?" he flatly questioned. I awkwardly laughed… "If it wasn't would I be this secure…" I responded searching his eyes for something other than his vacant stare. As I pulled the gun out of my purse, he grasped it. I pulled away at first… but he coldly stated "let me"  
  
I offered him the gun and Sark walked in … "an hour is up…" he said and halted his statement as I grinned because I knew it was indeed over…for Sark.  
  
But Sark didn't look scared…he didn't look as I would have pictured him…instead he too grinned and I gulped as Vaughn cocked the gun and pointed it…at me.  
  
Tbc. 


	6. 6

A/N:: Ha! Don't think I forget about this piece or any of my other unfinished pieces such as Rara Avis or Inner Demons. Thanks to winter break I had time to type the updated chapters and not keep anyone in suspense any longer. I sincerely apologize if I kept anyone in suspense! Also I'd like to remind everyone that I wrote this almost 6 months ago, so I pretty much left it intact and didn't make too many revisions. Happy Holidays! ~E  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
The depth of the barrel clouded my perception. It invaded my senses and only when I attempted to look beyond the barrel could I see Vaughn's face. It was a cold, vacant, emotionless face devoid of feeling. I darted my eyes attempting to sear into his. Trying to re-ignite the conviction or at least bring him back to reality, but nothing penetrated his empty stare. I looked over at Sark and his lips curled and he looked as though he was a beaming father seeing his son; so proud of his accomplishment. His evil smirk made me cringe. It made me feel sick ands I tried again to silently reason with Vaughn. His eyes followed mine and led me to a note scrawled in Italian; 'this is just a game we play, we are each a ploy, a toy to be displayed'   
  
I darted my eyes back to Sark. I batted my brown eyes and offered a false sense of admiration which overcame my previously frozen stare.  
  
"You did all of this for me?" I asked Sark.  
  
He smirked some more and approached me. He rested his hand on my bare shoulder and replied; "You give yourself quite a lot of credit… I did this because of you.."  
  
He shoved me back into the couch, I let him, after all I couldn't let on that I knew Vaughn wasn't going to shoot me. I slouched into the corner of the couch further away from Vaughn and feigned a few tears.  
  
"I'm learning new things about you everyday, Sydney" he enunciated my name. "I never thought you were the crying type."  
  
As he leaned down to comfort me, I learned over and pulled the gun from Vaughn's loose grip and pushed the barrel into Sark's neck. I looked him right in the eye, "Don't think I won't…" I said.  
  
"I bet you didn't peg me for the aggressive type." I continued.  
  
Somehow his hand wrestled around my neck and tried to disarm me; instead of letting his grip cause me drop the weapon of choice this evening, I swung my arm and slammed him in the head- knocked him out cold. 


	7. 7

Chapter 7  
  
I let his limp body fall to the carpeted floor. "We need to get out of here" I said to Vaughn.   
  
"What about the poisoned Martini?" he asked me.   
  
"I never accept the drink the bartender offers. I watched him prepare it, I'm not poisoned. I don't have time to be poisoned."  
  
"Then why did you stay…" he asked me as we opened the door to leave.  
  
I turned to face him. "For you."  
  
We headed to the stairs and I saw her. I knew it was her even without seeing her face. She turned around though.  
  
"Good evening." She said. Her face was smooth; the years had had no effect on her olive complexion. She looked exactly the way I remembered. That made it even harder.  
  
"Let's go." I said to Vaughn.  
  
"I have a job for you." She said, as we tried to make our way to the elevators,  
  
"Too bad. I don't work for you."  
  
"He does" she said as she pointed to Vaughn. 


	8. 8

Chapter 8  
  
"I think you're mistaken." I said.  
  
"I'm aware the last thing you want is to be exposed. I can prevent anyone knowing that you are a mole, or that Agent Vaughn and you are connected. I can make anything… or ANYONE disappear…"  
  
"What's the job" I asked, "out of curiosity" I continued.  
  
"It's simple really. Just an extraction."  
  
"Who?" I asked. She was making this sound so easy. There had to be a catch.  
  
"A girl. Just a girl. She'll be walking home from school, and you just have to pick her up. Bring her to the airport and see that she arrives safely to me. No gun. No guards. No guts… no glory"  
  
"Why?" I asked.   
  
"It won't make it any easier if you know…."  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
"technically she's your sister… but the technicalities get you every time."  
  
"My sister?" I asked puzzled.   
  
"Michael please go check on Sark. Make sure his ego isn't too bruised. Sydney and I need to speak alone."   
  
I looked at Vaughn, he looked back at me. "It's okay." I said, as he followed her orders. 


End file.
